


Here All Weariness Can Find Rest

by bunn



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, sons of feanor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunn/pseuds/bunn
Summary: It's time for Fëanor to explain to Ambarussa why their family is different.





	Here All Weariness Can Find Rest

“I can talk to them about…everything, if you would like me to,” Maitimo offered, standing in the sunlit breakfast-room, strewn with the remnants of a hearty breakfast, once Ambarussa’s nursemaid had shepherded them back to their own suite of rooms. He had noticed his father looking after them, seen his expression, and worked it out. 

“Didn’t you say you were going riding this morning?” Fëanáro asked. He very obviously was: Maitimo was already wearing his riding things, immaculate as always.

“Well, I was going to,” Maitimo admitted “But there’s no rush about it. I was only meeting Findekáno for a gallop in the hills. He won’t mind if I get there a little late. And it’s not as though you don’t have plenty of work to do.”

“I think I can manage, Maitimo. Go on. No need to keep your friend waiting.”

“Well, if you’re quite sure…” Maitimo said, very doubtfully. His father made shooing motions at him.

“I’m not going riding,” Makalaurë said from the window-seat where he was sitting feet up, beside a disordered pile of manuscripts, pen already in hand. “I’ll talk to them, if you like.”

“Or me,” Tyelkormo said, pausing with one hand on the door and the other holding a napkin wrapped around the last three sausages, which were probably destined for Huan. “I’m taking Ambarussa out this afternoon to see the new puppies up at the stables anyway. I could tell them all about things then. No trouble.”

Carnistir caught his father’s eye over his fifth cup of coffee as Maitimo left the room. He said nothing, but lifted an eyebrow enquiringly.

“I somehow managed to talk to all of you about the situation. Not to mention Curufinwë,” Fëanáro pointed out. “I can cope with telling Ambarussa.”

“Well, of course you can,” Makalaurë said, having apparently appointed himself spokesman now that Maitimo had left. “But if you don’t want to do it one more time, you only have to mention it.”

All of this, if anything, made it harder. But there was no question that they meant well and only wanted to spare him grief, and so he smiled at them all and inclined his head in acknowledgement. “None the less, I shall go and talk to Ambarussa this morning. They are my last two sons: they should hear about this from their father.”

All three of them nodded, and Fëanáro left the room and made his way up to the Ambarussa’s rooms. He took a long breath before he opened the door, and consciously thought himself to calm.

Then he went in, waved the nursemaids away, gave the first Ambarussa a quick hug, and scooped up the second Ambarussa in his arms as they rushed to greet him. Then he sat down on the rather shabby green settle that all of his sons had used in turn when they had been children, with the second Ambarussa on his lap, and the first Ambarussa came with a wide delighted grin to sit next to him. They did not usually have their father’s company in the mornings, so this was a special treat.

“Now you are getting to be such big boys,” Fëanáro said to them both, putting his arm around Ambarussa the first, “I have something very important to tell you. Now this is a thing that is very special and different about our family, that has happened to nobody else, never in all the world, so you must listen carefully and make sure you understand it properly.”

They looked up at him wide-eyed and earnest and trustful, as Maitimo had looked at him, as Makalaurë, Tyelkormo, Carnistir and Curufinwë had done.

“It’s time for you to hear about how your grandmother, my mother Míriel died, and went to the Halls of Waiting, and how it is that she can never see or speak to us, and will never come home again,” he said, and his voice was almost completely level as he said it.


End file.
